


You Used to Work Me Out (But You Never Worked It Out For Me)

by emptyswimmingpools



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, break-up, short but certainly not sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 13:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6117718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emptyswimmingpools/pseuds/emptyswimmingpools
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If it's any consolation, I love you."<br/>"No, you don't."</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Used to Work Me Out (But You Never Worked It Out For Me)

**Author's Note:**

> literally my third upload within 24 hours. bit rushed, quite sad, m'sorry in advance.
> 
> // [title song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tJSDWkO7Lb4), [tumblr](https://sighmemes.tumblr.com), [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/mazetroye) //

"You can't keep doing this, Connor." His blue eyes have gone dark, narrowed into a glare that sends shivers down Connor's spine. He deserves it, he knows, but he can't help feeling sorry for himself regardless. He's selfish, he knows that all too well. "It's not fair."

Connor wants to say he's sorry, that he regrets it all, that he won't ever do it again; he'd be lying at that. "Life's not fair," he spits out, and stifles a cringe at how unnecessarily bitter it sounds. A sour, unpleasant taste lingers on the tip of his tongue, and he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth in order to distract himself. Troye visibly tenses, and he feels a pang of guilt.

Troye continues as if he hadn't heard Connor's remark. "I'm not a fucking toy. You can't just dispose of me when you so desire, then expect me to forgive you when you come back because you're lonely!" It seems out of character for his words to be shouted so loudly — he was ever so used to Troye's words being spoken in a soft tone, as if they were fragile, and would shatter like glass if any louder.

"Look, babe, we—" he begins, calmer than before, though his words are cut off by an anger like no other.

"Don't you fucking dare call me that. Not now, not ever."

"We can work this out," he finishes, though it's pointless, he knows. He just can't think of anything else to say.

Troye shakes his head, runs a pasty hand through unruly curls. "Maybe, maybe we could. But would you stick to it?" Connor doesn't respond — Troye already knows his answer and lets out a forced chuckle. "That's what I thought." His voice is quiet, defeated. Connor's heart sinks at the sight of the boy falling apart at the seams right in front of him. He deserves better.

"Is this you breaking up with me?" Connor asks as if it weren't obvious already.

Troye speaks, his voice just over a whisper, "Perhaps."

"If it's any consolation, I love you." His words hold no hope.

"No, you don't." Yeah, he doesn't. The harsh truth, really. He does, however, really quite like him — that terrifies Connor. He's known nothing more than to run away from the things he's scared of, and that's why they've fallen apart; why he's disallowed himself to fall for him. It's hardly justifiable, but it's not like he can take his actions back and reprogram himself, is it?

"I'm sorry," he says. He swears he sees a tear roll down Troye's face, but he's not entirely sure.

"No, you're not."

Troye's wrong this time, but Connor can't bring himself to utter another word. He silently grabs his jacket, opens the door, and walks away. He desperately tries to ignore the way his head aches and his heart burns, albeit he doesn't do a fantastic job.

And despite the way he always seems to ruin things regardless of how big or small it is, the world keeps turning, the days keep passing, the pain and guilt keeps growing.


End file.
